Too Far Apart • FIVE FEET APART

|| Too Far Apart

It's been three years, five months and two days, to be exact.

All this time apart from Will...

I used to think distance was all that could keep us apart. But right now, time is the biggest enemy. The biggest bully. The longest journey. The evil-est villain. If that's even a word.

God. A quiet scoff escapes my lips. Will. If you could hear me now. Making up stupid words like evil-est.

Will. If you could hear me now, you'd laugh.

Whatever.

I'd give anything to hear you laugh.

Three solid knocks on the door rips me from my thoughts. I jump, taking a second to clear my head.

"Uh, yeah?" I shout, craning my neck to see the door. Technically, I wouldn't have to if Hanako would just move all her stuff. Our dorm room is very small. It's been six weeks since we moved in, and she's still got two boxes of unpacked things.

I guess I'm lucky I even get to be here.

I guess I should be thankful.

Back in the present, a muffled voice calls through the door, "It's Brendan."

Huh. Brendan.

"Oh," I try to stifle the irritation in my voice. "Okay. Come in." I should really go over there and open the door myself, but it's 9:30 on a Saturday night. What the hell is he even doing here?

At my request, the door peaks open an inch. I see Brendan's blue eye fit just between the door's edge and the wall. I can tell he's trying to be funny, so I force on a smile. Well, a half-smile.

"Hey, hey," he pushes the door more, so that half his body is wedged into the room. His eyes smile the way I've never seen on anyone. Just his eyes. Not really the rest of his face. He does this a lot, I notice: it's an observable fact about him.

"Hey," I offer back, dipping my head in a little greeting. I'm sitting in my bed, my back flattened to a wall and my legs bent to the ceiling. I balance a notebook on my lap. It's new. I got it for my birthday two months ago, knowing it was meant to make lists.

Lists. Master lists. Daily lists. Wish lists. Bucket lists.

I could have made all the lists in the world.

But ... I didn't.

I ended up using the notebook for something else.

Even though it shouldn't matter so much, and I trust Brendan more than anyone else at this University, I can't help but lay my hand on the page that I'm writing on. I just don't want him to see.

He notices the gesture. His eyes flick down to what I've blinded him to.

"Watcha doing there?" He drawls, all hyped and funny. He's probably just come back from hiking up Cherry Hill with Hanako and whoever. He's adventurous that way.

"Oh. Nothing," I answer promptly, shrugging my shoulders. There's no enthusiasm to my voice. I hope he's taking the hint that I want him to go away.

"Cool," He says. And he steps into the room. And he shuts the door behind him. "I love doing nothing."

There's another observable fact about Brendan: MAKE BIGGER HINTS.

"It's funny to think you're doing nothing on a Saturday night, though," He walks into the room, tilting his head to scratch the back of his head. His hair is blond and cropped. It's not wavy and long. I don't think I could run my fingers through it. "I mean, I get that we have an assignment due Thursday, but .... we're given two whole classes to work on it. I don't see the point of doing it now."

This time, I don't resist a sigh.

He doesn't see the point of anything.

"Alright, well," I begin. "Do you maybe see the point of starting something early and finishing it early? And then while everybody's stuck scrambling to finish work, you are already finished. And guess what you're doing."

"More work?" He cracks.

I narrow my eyes at him. But a small smile tips my lips. And it's not forced, "Funny."

He chuckles.

Brendan is a friend of Hanako's. He was friends with her before I knew either of them. His dorm room is on another floor, but he comes here so often sometimes I forget I have nothing in common with him. Hanako doesn't like me, so the time that she's not here I find myself thinking about Brendan a lot more than I should.

Just thinking about this drives a blade of guilt through my heart, and suddenly it's CF all over again. Suddenly, I can't breathe.

Images flash before my eyes. Will.

Will.

Long, wavy dark hair. Sitting on the roof, feet dangling like he's waiting for the air to catch his fall. Bundled up. Staring at the stretch of city lights.

He's on my screen. His head is bedded in his pillow, long dark locks splashed out beside him and slightly over his eyes. His smile is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

When he sneaks into my room. He's hiding behind masks and gloves and a million disguises. His eyes smile at me. He sings me the song.

When we're at the pool, his scars are the most beautiful thing about him.

And then, on the ice. In the cold. His smile makes me warm. I'm laughing. The back of my head hurts. And then I fall. And then .... all I can hear is his voice. Whispering, hissing, begging me to come back. Come back to him. I don't feel it when he kisses me, but I wish I had. I wish I knew what it felt like to kiss Will.

But I don't.

I never did, I never will, I never would've even if he'd lived.

We were just .... too far apart.

Tears blur my eyes.

"Whoa. Stella? Stella, are you okay? Hang on —"

I don't even know who's talking. I don't even know. I don't even care.

"Get out."

"Wait, what's going on? What happened?"

"I said get out!"

I don't know how it happens because I don't look up. And even if I were to, tears blur my sight. I cannot see anything through this thick, glassy haze. A prison.

My life.

My life is a prison.

Long after Brendan is gone, my mind keeps wandering back. I tremble, my hands gripping onto wet paper, and very slowly, I crumble in on myself. These words echo in my mind.

Too.

Far.

Apart.